Dark Submissive

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Not long,” I said, my voice so thick with want I didn’t recognize it.

  I wanted this forever. To jump for my pleasure as he held it over my head. I knew if I caught it that it would be magical and worth the struggle. It was convincing him to let me have it that was the problem.

  “You should give yourself more credit,” he chastised.

  He pressed a long, wet kiss to my clit.

  I tried.

  I really did.

  But I exploded, moaning unhindered into the forest outside his window. He sighed in disappointment behind me, and then flicked his tongue over my clit a few more times, sending me into a pathetic orbit. When my orgasm dulled, I peered through my hair to find him glaring down at me in displeasure.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?”

  I shook my head.

  “On top of turning your clit into a pink little pillow, we’re going to train you to enjoy the ride and not only the ending.”

  I didn’t move, hating how upset he was with me. He’d wanted to award me, and I’d given in to lust so fast, I didn’t even enjoy my orgasm. “I’m sorry, Jaxon,” I whimpered.

  His eyes flashed, and his heavy hand came down on my ass. “Who the fuck said you could use my first name?”

  I missed my Jaxon so strongly in that moment, I knew lasting this entire month with only his monster would take every ounce of strength I had. “No one.”

  He dropped his hand against my backside without restraint once more. I cringed, arching my spine. The sting of his hand had me gasping for air. “No one? I’m the only person in the room, Miya. And even if we were in a room filled with people, the only person who matters should be me. You’re on your own for the rest of the evening. Think long and hard about your submission.”

  I crawled off the bed and onto my feet, sad for no good reason. “May I ask you a question?”

  His sharp gaze landed on me. “What?”

  “Will I not be sleeping with you?”

  He gaped at me. “My submissives do not sleep in my bed. They sleep in the basement. Go.”

  One month. I could do this.

  I would do this.

  And then he’d be at my mercy in thirty days.

  3. – Jaxon

  Letting her walk out of my room was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do in my entire life. And I had a pretty extensive list of fucked up things I’d had to endure. Before my mind could latch onto one, I went downstairs to take my mind off of the temptation to run downstairs and bring her back up where she belonged.

  In my bed.

  In my arms.

  With me.

  In my office, I closed and locked the door, feeling no peace. I could feel her through the floor. She had a life force stronger than drywall and paint. It was bigger than all other things. I turned on my computer and tried to drown out my thoughts by turning an eye to the present. I had class on Monday. I reread the email that I’d gotten from the dean reinstating my position at the university after Vega tried to get me fired by sending in images of Miya and I together off-campus.

  The vindictive wench. My eyes darted around the room instinctually. Even after nine years of being free of her, my respect still remained. My submission. Bad talking her, even in my head, set me on edge. But she and I were over. Had been for a long time. My mind was my own again. I was an adult, and not the broken soulless monster she healed at seventeen. It wasn’t as easy to distance myself from her entirely, considering Vega was my aunt Pyper’s moral support. I didn’t see another option at that point.

  Thirty days or not, Miya did not like the woman and made her distaste known. She braved punishment to express her anger, which said something, considering I was her Dominant. I hadn’t helped, at all, cheating on her with my ex-Mistress. I hung my head, groaning into my hands. Losing Miya wasn’t an option, but love was an impossible task. She had to know that. See that. Monsters didn’t have happily-ever-after. We got right now, and that was it.

  That was supposed to be good enough.

  What if it wasn’t? What would happen to me if I couldn’t give her what she needed? I had every right to control her, if that’s what she desired. The moment she decided she had enough of me, I couldn’t stop her from leaving.

  From smashing what little bit of my heart that still remained.

  I blew a breath out through clenched teeth and then pulled open my drawer, retrieving a cigar from my office collection. I cut the tip and then brought the cigar to my lips, bringing my lighter out with it and guiding the flame to the tip. The moment the nicotine hit my system, my body relaxed. I hadn’t turned the lights on and the dark suited me just fine. After all, I was the monster in the nightmares.

  The only thing I feared was the beautiful innocent woman hiding out in my basement. How a girl could bring me to my knees I didn’t know. But she did. Over and over again. I relished the scars on my knees, from constantly falling for her.

  The impulse to go to her roared in my veins. My breathing deepened. It was times like that which made me highly aware of the fact that I was still very much an addict. Once an addict, always an addict. Chasing anything at all to numb my demons.

  My demons were bloodthirsty. They liked to chip and chip away at my sanity until I wasn’t sane at all unless I had a sub at my feet waiting for my command.

  I got up and paced, blowing out a stream of smoke. My fingers went to my hair and I tugged at the roots. I could feel her, damn it. Sense her fucking being. I wanted to wallow in it. Spank her ass raw and then kiss her red flesh.

  I wrenched my office door open and stomped to the back of the house for the basement door. Just as my hand touched it, I paused. This was stupid. We didn’t need a month of detached sex to see what we already knew.

  We were fucked up.

  I didn’t care.

  And she was my everything.

  What more was there?

  And then a little voice said, what about what she wants?

  It was first nature, and frankly, my only nature, to seek what I desired. It went with the territory. But giving Miya what she wanted gave me a sick sense of happiness. I took great pride in soothing her wounds. I put them there. I made them feel better. Every time I soothed her, I created a blank slate to hurt again. We could do it forever.

  Hurt. Soothe.

  Fall. Get up.

  Make love. Fuck hard.

  Cry. Forgive.

  A slam of longing and regret punched me in my chest. That damn girl made me want things I didn’t know how to have.

  I did the only thing I could think to do when my dominance and love life got too twisted together. I called Samuel Carter. Fellow Dom. Openly obsessed with my woman. Begrudgingly made for this lifestyle.

  I took a seat at the middle of my staircase, casting my gaze around the first floor. It was still dark from pulling the blinds, and the little shred of light that did manage to seep through the blinds barely did a thing.

  “Jaxon,” he greeted, tone hesitant. “What have you done now?”

  I grunted. “What makes you think I’ve done something?”

  “Every single situation before this one.”

  I smirked tiredly. “Fine. I haven’t done anything, so much as put my foot in my own ass.”

  “As intriguing as that sounds… what are you talking about?”

  I could hear other voices and the sound of rustling on the other end. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m scouting buildings for my BDSM nightclub. Not an easy task,” he tacked on bitterly. “Everyone’s terrified of sex, Jaxon. How did I settle in a city that won’t even allow zoning for a nightclub?”

  “Is that what you’re calling it? A nightclub?” In all honesty, I thought he had a good idea on paper. In reality, I was doubtful.

  BDSM was something done behind closed doors. It was sensual and deep. It didn’t need the world’s approval, and it may never get it at all. BDSM gave the lost a place to find something I thought we all lost at one point in
our lives.

  Control.

  Or for those who submitted, the choice of letting go. There was a rare sense of peace in letting go few understood until they were bound, gagged, and euphoric.

  “I can’t call it what it is. All the training places we partook in were underground disease fests. I have a vision. I’m a business man.” He sighed sadly, like he was missing something.

  I knew what that something was. A submissive on her knees with his cock down her throat. Samuel was socially palatable. He could blend in with the rich and shake hands with them too. He came into money and was a fantastic actor. They had no idea he was deep into the degradation kink. That he could take a strong woman and have her eating out the palm of his hand in minutes, swallowing filthy insults like they were candy. I didn’t know what drove him to this lifestyle, only that if anyone belonged, he did.

  A dark knight throwing darkness all around him like onyx confetti.

  “How is my Sweet?” he asked, his voice warming.

  Rage immediately moved through me. I wasn’t a man who shared, but I couldn’t think of a batter way to get Miya to understand than to let Samuel play with her. Letting him get his hands on her had been a mistake. She ran to him when she was upset with me, and he was all too happy to invite her in. I hated their connection, mostly because it looked so easy.

  “She’s in the basement.”

  He perked up. “Oh? What travesty has she committed to be punished? She’s usually so well behaved.”

  I didn’t miss the undercurrent in his tone. “That’s why I called. I need to ask your advice.”

  He sighed, muttered something on the other end, and then excused himself. “What the fuck have you done to our girl, Jaxon?”

  “Our girl? If I remember correctly, she’s in my basement, sore from me.”

  “You don’t deserve her. You know that right, you fucking monster? She’d be much better off with me.”

  The part that hurt wasn’t his words. It was the fact that I knew he was right. Sam degraded, but he also loved. Not to mention he was loaded. He needed someone sweet, to counteract his bad. But the thing was, I didn’t give a fuck. Miya was mine because that’s what she was. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  “What?” he grumbled.

  I told him about our month-long deal, and then the month-long deal after that. I waited on my end, wondering what the hell was taking him so long to respond. “Well?” I prompted.

  “Why are you playing games?” he barked. “Why do you toy with her? That woman wants love, Jaxon, and you’re never going to give it to her. Let. Her. Go. There comes a point in our lives where we have to accept what we gave up when we went into this lifestyle. And that’s women like her. Honestly, you’re wretched for even giving her hope.”

  I growled. “What the fuck do you want me to do? I’m not letting her go.”

  “Then give up the lifestyle. It’s that simple. Tear out that play room you have in the attic and buy her a minivan. That’s what she wants. That’s what all women want. A minivan with screaming children and bags under their eyes. That’s beautiful to them. Which is everything you’re not. You can’t even get her pregnant.”

  “What are you saying?” I hated how panicked I sounded. “It’s either lose her or lose myself?”

  “Jaxon,” he sighed. “You’re already lost. You’re lucky she’s still trying to find your sorry ass.”

  “You’re wrong!” I bellowed. “I can have both. Her submission and she can have her damn minivan.”

  “What are you going to put in it? All your floggers?”

  I hung up, my rage gripping my chest. Some help that bastard was. I pulled up my browser on my cell and looked up minivans. I blanched and closed it out, walking up to my bedroom. My empty bedroom.

  My bed smelled thickly of her soft skin. I fell face first into the covers and hugged her pillow to my chest. Exhaling miserably, I rolled onto my back and considered it.

  Marrying her.

  Kissing her good morning instead of icing and heating her backside.

  Shopping for homes instead of butt plugs.

  I rather enjoyed my butt plugs. I enjoyed taking her ass in all the rooms in my house. Was it possible to keep the pain and still make her smile?

  That’s what it all came down to.

  Pain was in my blood. It fueled me. Gave me life when nothing else had. It got into my heart at too young of an age, and it was the only aspect of being human I still understood.

  Most husbands didn’t spank their wives before going to work. But I had to. Most husbands didn’t drive their cocks into their wives just to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head. Most husbands didn’t get hard at the memory of tying her wrists with her panties and taking her cunt on a throw rug.

  I’d be that husband. The emotionally empty one. She’d end up divorcing me anyway. And run into the arms of a minivan buying douchebag.

  I wanted a drink.

  A vein full of heroine.

  How would I survive without my sweetest drug?

  I looked at the floor, as if I could see her through the floor boards.

  I wouldn’t survive.

  4. – Miya

  Time became a game.

  How much had passed until he came back? If his goal was to make me starve for him, then mission accomplished.

  If his goal was to turn my mind inside out until my thoughts floated around me like a dream, then I was stuck in a nightmare of my own creation.

  But there wasn’t life outside of that dark dream-like state.

  There was life in it.

  The waiting made my blood rush to my brain.

  The need made my body tingle all over.

  The lust made my sex drenched.

  I was rocking back and forth on the floor of the basement when he finally came to me. It had to be the next morning. I hadn’t slept. I found the madness quite comfortable.

  “Master,” I purred, lifting my head from where I sat on the floor, my knees pressed to my chest.

  He studied me, his hands hanging at his sides. He’d showered. His hair was damp, and the scent of his spicy soap made my mouth water. He wore a white t-shirt and black pajama bottoms. I could see his abdominal muscles through his shirt, and I ached to feel them pressed against my stomach as he filled every aching cavity inside of me.

  “Did you sleep?” he asked, expression stone.

  Hard and impenetrable.

  Did you? I wanted to ask. Instead, I shook my head. “It’s hard to sleep by myself.”

  A sliver of softness warmed his eyes. “For me as well.”

  My heart opened up, stretching from her slumber. It was sick how badly I wanted to upset him. To earn his heavy hand on my ass. The sting of the spanks. The bite of his beautiful pain.

  He rose a brow at me. “You’re not hiding what you’re thinking very well.”

  I blinked at him, sitting cross-legged. “What am I thinking, Master?”

  “You’re thinking that it’s been too long since I’ve been inside you.”

  Liquid desire poured over my head. I was bathed in it. “You’re a mind reader, too, Master?”

  He chuckled warmly, his eyes striking dark flames. “Perhaps that will be my new profession. Dominant by night, mind reader by day. You think I can put it on my resume?”

  Jaxon cracking jokes was its own special kind of aphrodisiac. “I think you’d manage to find a job easy.”

  “Yeah, what job would that be, my sweet girl?”

  I was panting. Unable to sit still. “Male model?”

  His brows shot up. “You think I could pass for a male model? I’m not sure you’re right.”

  My fingernails trailed over my thighs. “If you let me, I can convince you that your body’s better than any male model.”

  His tongue flicked at his bottom lip and he aimed his eyes on me so completely, I felt warm wrapped in his gaze. “Are you asking or propositioning me? You can ask for anything. It’s up to me whether you’ll get
it.”

  I licked my lips too. “Can I worship your body?”

  His teasing edge dissipated. In its place was hunger. Deep, insatiable hunger. The dark in the basement seemed to pulse around him. I felt possessed.

  “I think that could be arranged. How would you like me?”

  “Naked,” I whispered.

  His lips twitched. Dark humor glimmered in his eyes. “Right to the point. I’m pleased to see you’re not wasting any time. Would you like me right here?” He had the audacity to point at his current position, as if I’d last if he moved even an inch.

  “Yes.”

  “Naked?” he checked.

  “So naked.”

  He opened his arms in front of him. “I am nothing if not an agreeable Master.”

  I didn’t answer. I watched.

  He took his shirt off and pulled it over his head, dropping his shirt onto the floor. He grabbed for his pants along with his tight black briefs and pulled them down his thighs. The moment it was free, his cock leapt out and bobbed in front of him.

  My mouth watered. But that wasn’t an option. Jaxon didn’t do oral sex after what had been done to him as a child. The memory of his confession sent a flood of sadness through me for him. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and combat every painful memory he had. But I knew he wouldn’t like that. Wouldn’t even allow it.

  He stepped out of his pants and boxers and then stood there in all his glory. He was so tall and ripped. Every single muscle in his body dug deep into his flesh. The V’s embedded in his pelvis led the way to his trail of silky black pubic hair; his cock twitched when I studied it.

  “I’m ready for you, sweet girl.”

  I crawled to him on my hands and knees. The first place I pressed my lips to were his shins. I trailed my tongue through the course hair on his leg and up, nipping at his knee cap. From above, I heard a grunt of pleasure.

  “No oral sex,” he warned, when my tongue got close to his thigh.

  I nodded, peering up at him as I bit down on the V’s dug into his lower abdomen. I kissed the right one from the bottom to the top, savoring the taste of his clean skin. My chest brushed against his cock, but I completely ignored it as I crossed over to his other V. I kissed that one the same way, and then moved on to his abs. I tasted all six grooves until his muscles were clenching beneath me. I rose onto my feet and pressed my face against his chest.